


As the Wind Blows

by iamavacado



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Gen, M/M, Near Death Experiences
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-28
Updated: 2018-09-02
Packaged: 2019-07-03 18:38:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15824661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iamavacado/pseuds/iamavacado
Summary: Virgil didn't think that his runaway cat would land him at the edge of a roof. He also didn't think it'd land him in the company of a dashing young fellow named Roman.





	1. In the Heights

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not sure how long this will end up being, but here we GOOOO!!!!!!

The distance from the top of the building to where he was seemed to extend on forever. A bit of fog had rolled in since Virgil had climbed over the short railing, so it now seemed as if he was on top of the tallest structure in the world. It kept going and going until the ground felt like a foreign concept he had never witnessed before. Sidewalk. Grass. Road. What did they even look like? It had felt like years since he'd seen them.

Wind blew fairly steadily. However, a gust dared to push Virgil over the edge every few seconds. The chill even managed to seep through the thick of his jacket. He shivered. 

“Okay,” he said to himself. “Okay, Alright. Okay okay okay.” He didn't want to look down, but looking forward offered a view to the other edge of the city. It was the same view he saw on the first roller coaster he went on; the one where he vomited as soon as he got off. Looking up made him lose his balance even more, so he just looked down. Now and then, he'd look to the side and see the small white and orange cat perched on the ledge next to him. It was his cat. It had managed to wriggle through an open window and escape into the city.

Goblin--aka “Gobby”-- was just as scared as he was. He meowed and meowed into the wind, though Virgil couldn't hear him. With the wind blowing, and the intense pounding of his heart in his ears, he could barely hear anything. “You and me against the world,” he said to the cat, breathless. The cat just shifted his paws, trying to turn around. Finding that he couldn't without risking a fall, he stayed where he was, inching back into the corner. Virgil looked at Gobby, then down at the ground below, peeking through the fog.

His breathing quickened involuntarily, and he tried to do his counting to get it under control. Hyperventilating on a ledge like this could cause a panic attack, which was definitely something he didn't need right now. He was already panicked enough. 

Virgil looked down again. He prayed that the fog would clear and someone, anyone would see him, but alas. The fog had grown thicker. He was dead to the world, abandoned on the roof of this empty building. 

Another gust of wind nearly made him lose his balance. He screamed a curse, and tightened his grip on the railing behind him.

If that happened again, then he really _would_ be dead to the world.

“Oooh my GOD, I'm gonna die!” he yelled out. Goblin cat meowed again, and he looked down at him. “This is _your_ fault!” he said to the cat. He looked up at Virgil with his green eyes. “You couldn't have run into a building that only had one floor, could you? No, you had to go to the top of the fuckin Eiffel tower, huh?” He looked down yet again. “Hooooh fuck!”

Goblin meowed in return, as if to apologize for getting them both in this predicament. 

“Okay, I guess it isn't your fault,” Virgil reasoned. He realized that it was partly crazy to be having a conversation with his cat, but he wasn't exactly in a normal situation. “I shouldn't have chased you in here. But I didn't think you'd run all the way up to the roof.” His hood strings flapped in the wind. He wobbled again, and readjusted his grip on the railing. “I guess we're both at fault.” His fingers were starting to go numb. If he didn't make a move soon, then….well…

He didn't want to think about what happened next. 

Virgil was just opening his mouth to tell Gobby that when he fell to his death, if his cat made it out alive, to tell Patton that he could have all of Virgil's movies. And to tell Logan that he could have all Virgil's books--even though he didn't own many. However, he didn't get a chance to utter his last will and testament to his cat, because a voice behind him cut through his thoughts. 

“Hey,” the voice said. Virgil yelped in rejoice. Someone had seen him. How, he didn't know. But he didn't care. Someone was here and they were going to save him. Thank goodness. And just as he was about to accept his doom. Perfect timing. He started to turn his head to see his savior, but the voice said, “No! Don't do that.”

“What?” Virgil asked. “Why?”

“You'll fall. Just-- don't move, okay? I'll come to you.”

Not moving wasn't going to be an issue, but he stayed as still as possible anyway. He looked to the side as best as he could until he saw a face come into view. 

The face was smiling with white teeth. The face also had green eyes and a smattering of freckles across its cheeks. The face also had curly hair, cut short on the sides, but let free to grow on top. The face’s hair flapped wildly in the wind. “I'm Roman,” the face said.

“Hi Roman,” Virgil said. He felt as if the air was being sucked from his lungs, “I'm terrified!”

Roman leaned back behind the railing. “I know, just-- it's okay. You're going to be fine. Just listen to me, and trust me.”

Even though hearing those words in a normal setting would make Virgil immediately not trust the person who said it, these were extenuating circumstances. And even though he was desperate to get off this ledge, he couldn't help himself from blurting out, “My cat.”

“Huh?”

Virgil nodded his head toward Goblin, who had started to shrink down into himself. Poor thing was getting more scared by the second. His ears were pressed against his head, and his tail was flapping consistently. “Goblin. You have to save him.”

He didn't see it, but judging by the pause, Roman probably looked down to see this frightened orange and white ball. “Goblin?”

“Yes, Goblin. Problem?”

“No. No problem. But, uh…” Roman paused. “Shouldn't I help you, first?”

Virgil shook his head. He'd rather die than let his cat fall to harm. After all, it wasn't Gobby’s fault that they built this building here. It used to be a forest. If anything, they should blame corporate greed. “Save Goblin first, or I'm jumping.”

“Well, don't do that,” Roman said, voice rising a pitch in concern. “I'll get...Gob...Goblin, okay? I'll get him.”

“Thank you,” said Virgil. He also added, “I brought his leash, it's purple. I was going to put the leash on him when I got him.”

Roman looked around. “I see it,” he said, leaning down to pick it up. “Okay, let me get your cat.”

“It’s not like I'm not going anywhere.”

Goblin hissed at Roman at first, but he was smart enough to know not to go lunging at him. So he just sat there, eyes slit. Virgil noticed this when he saw Roman's hand reach through the slats of the railing. “Here kitty,” Roman said. Uncertainty was in his voice. He clicked his tongue to try and lure him closer, but no dice.

“Gobby,” Virgil said. Gobby looked up at him. “It's okay Gobby.” He nodded his head toward Roman. “Go on Gobby.”

It was unlikely that Goblin understood English, but after Virgil's encouraging words, he seemed to un-tense. He inched towards Roman. “Hi kitty,” Roman said. He reached his hands out once again, and slowly, he put his hand under Goblin’s stomach. “Slow moving Goblin, slow moving.” Roman made sure he had a good grip on Virgil's cat, then eased him through the slats. 

Virgil breathed a sigh of relief. “Fucking idiot cat,” he said under his breath. “Is he okay?”

Roman put the leash around Goblin's neck, and then he tied the other end of the leash to a pole away from the railing, near the roof door. “I mean, shaken up. But he's not hurt. What about you?”

The fog started to clear a bit, so Virgil could see all the way down to the parking lot below. He could see his bike as a small purple paint blot near the entrance. His stomach lurched. Maybe he preferred the fog. “I c…” he swallowed hard. “I could be better.”

“Alright, well, here we go then.” Roman's face appeared again briefly so Virgil could see him. “You have to do what I say, okay?”

Virgil nodded.

“Are you okay with me touching you and maybe grabbing your arm?”

Virgil looked over at his arm. “Not normally, but go for it.” 

Roman half smiled. “Okay, cool.” He paused, and looked Virgil over one final time before announcing his plan. “First, we have to turn you around. So what I need you to do, is look down at your feet. Not at the ground. The ground can wait. Look only at your feet.”

Virgil did as he was told. He looked at his feet, which had his combat boots attached to them. They were sideways, like a ballerina stance, due to the narrowness of the ledge. 

“Keep looking at your feet,” Roman instructed. His voice was calm and smooth. “And what I need you to do now, is just move your arms inward a little bit. Your arms are spread out too far, and you can't move.”

“I…” Virgil tried to move his hands, but his grip slipped a bit, and he yelled out. He was shaking, and not just from the cold. “I can't do that!”

“Yes you can. You can do it. One hand at a time. Just a little bit so you can feel your arms bend.” Virgil felt Roman put his hand around his elbow. “I'm going to pull on your elbow, and you move your hand with me so you can get slack.” Slowly, Roman eased Virgil's arm back, and Virgil inched his hand down the railing. He did the same with the other arm.

“Awesome,” said Roman. “So what you have to do now is the hard part--”

“Hard part?!”

Roman assured him in his calming voice. “It's okay. Just trust me. What you have to do, is take your right foot--” he reached down and tapped Virgil's foot from behind-- “and turn yourself so you're facing me. In one motion, swing your foot and your arm. The rest of you will follow.”

“I can't do that.” Virgil shook his head. “I cannot do that.”

“You can.” Roman nodded. “You can do that. I'm here. Uh..” he looked over at Virgil's cat. “Goblin's here.”

As if to add on to what Roman was saying, Goblin meowed. 

Virgil took a deep breath, eyes still locked on his feet. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale…

On the exhale, he swung the right half of his body around. The brief second his hand left the railing was the most terrifying moment he'd ever had, but it was over soon enough. 

“Hey,” Roman said.

Virgil opened his eyes, not even realizing he'd closed them. His eyes met Roman's, and his stomach turned again. He wasn't sure from what that time. “Hey,” Virgil said back.

“Hard part’s over. Smooth sailing from here.” Roman stepped forward closer, arms open. “You're gonna swing your leg over the railing, and I'll catch you.”

“Catch me?”

“Yeah. It's simple.” He makes a swinging leg motion. “Swing your leg.”

Virgil looked over at Goblin, sitting contentedly on the cement. Little fucker. At least he was okay. “Swing my leg,” Virgil repeated. 

Roman nodded. “Swing your leg.”

“Simple.”

“Simple.”

Virgil breathed out. “Okay.” He looked down at his feet again, and brought his right leg up and over the top of the railing. He balanced on the top of it like he were riding a horse for a moment, and he almost felt as he was going to fall, but Roman grabbed his arm and pulled him over. He didn't exactly catch his balance once over the railing, so he fell into Roman, and the two slammed against the concrete. 

The breath was knocked out of him for a second, so he had to breathe deep, not realizing that he'd pinned Roman to the ground. Once he did notice, he rolled off of him onto his back. 

Roman was smiling at that. He stood up, dusting himself off, before offering his hand to help Virgil up. Once they were both on their feet, neither of them were sure of what to say.

“You okay?” Roman asked dumbly. 

Virgil couldn't speak for a few seconds. He looked out over the roof, then over at Goblin, then back at Roman. He shrugged. “All things considered.” He went over to his cat, untied him, and picked him up, smothering him with kisses. “You are the stupidest, dumbest, idiot cat I've ever met. I'm going to put you up for adoption, I swear I will.”

Roman snickered. “I can tell you love him at least.”

“Yeah, sometimes.” Virgil put Goblin on his shoulder, and he gratefully climbed into the hood of his jacket, curling up in a ball. “Thank you.”

“No problem.” Roman shook his head. “Though, I was kind of winging it.” He started to walk to the roof’s door. Virgil followed, stuffing the leash into his pocket.

“Nice to know that you winged saving my life,” he said. Roman opened the door for him. He hesitated, but went through anyway. They both started down the stairs. Their steps echoed against the concrete walls.

“Yeah,” Roman said nonchalantly, “but you didn't know that while I was doing it. And you're alive, aren't you?”

Virgil looked down at himself. “Guess so.” He paused. They could hear Goblin purring as they walked. Once they were at a landing, on the fifth floor, Virgil stopped. He turned to Roman. “What were you doing up there anyway?”

At the question, Roman started to look sheepish. He didn't want to come off as a creep. “I run lines up there.” He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a script for a play Virgil had never heard of. “It's secluded, and no one's around. It's the perfect place to practice.” He put the script back in his pocket, and the two continued walking. “Guess from now on I'll have to check for pedestrians when I go up there.”

They shared a chuckle. 

Once at the parking lot, Virgil put Goblin in his bike’s basket, tying the leash around his hand and Goblin's neck so he wouldn't be able to escape again. He swung his leg over the seat, one foot on the pedal.

“Listen,” Virgil said, “I don't like owing people.”

“You don't owe me anything.”

“I mean, I kind of do. I'd be dead if not for you. So, this sounds dumb, but how can I repay you? Money? Food? You can't have my cat, but Logan has an asshole hamster I hate. You can have her.”

Roman paused. He eyed Virgil up and down. He had dashing brown eyes that were partly covered by swooping hair that fell in pieces. It was dyed a deep maroon, nearly purple, to match his ensemble. He smiled. “Dinner?”

Virgil blinked. “Dinner? As in...like a date?” He scoffed, kicking his bike stand up. “I don't do dates, man.”

“I never said it had to be a date. We can just do dinner.”

“Just because you don't call it a date doesn't mean it isn't a date. We barely know each other.” he paused, and considered how cold his tone was coming off. He sighed. “Roman, look. It was nice of you to help me, but I'm not really looking for--”

“Okay, what about your name?”

Virgil stopped. He hadn't given Roman his name? “My name.”

Roman nodded. “Your name. Can I just have your name?”

“Hm.” He looked around. Then he looked back at Roman. He sighed. “Knightly. Virgil Knightly.”

“Virgil Knightly,” Roman sounded. That was a name fit for a prince. It seemed to match perfectly with his look. “Thank you.”

Virgil nodded, and offered a small salute. “Later.” He pedaled away, with Goblin poking his head out of the basket as he went.

Roman started after him, the name bouncing around inside his skull. He looked up towards the roof of the building. Then back towards the direction Virgil had gone. He was already out of sight.

But definitely not out of mind.


	2. Who Said It Had to be a Date?

Virgil biked the entire way home, glancing down every few moments to make sure his idiot cat didn't leap out of the basket and start for another tall building. Thankfully, Goblin had taken this opportunity to curl into a ball and take a nap, despite the bumps and cracks in the sidewalk. As far as cats went, he wasn't easily spooked. Which made him reckless. But at least he was okay.

As for himself, Virgil wasn't quite sure. He could feel the panic rising in his stomach, but each time, he managed to push it back down with rational thought. He tried to think like Logan, his roommate. He was on solid ground, on his way home. He wasn't up high anymore, Goblin was safe, and so was he. There was no reason for him to panic.

But every time the breeze picked up as he pedaled, the nausea would swell once more. Virgil swallowed it down. If he closed his eyes for long enough, he felt like he back on that ledge. Only this time, there would be no person around save him. There'd be no Roman. 

As Virgil biked, Roman popped into his head more than he would have liked. The guy was a little brazen to be asking Virgil on a date right after meeting each other. He hadn't even known Virgil's name, and yet he was asking if the two of them could go to dinner together?

It wasn't like it was an insane request. I mean, the guy had saved Virgil's life. He'd left his phone at home, so there was no way to call his friends, and it wasn't like Goblin was going to help. So he was alone up there. If it weren't for Roman, he'd probably still be up on the ledge, waiting for a strong enough wind to blow him right off.

And, Virgil would never admit this unless someone got him drunk, but he wouldn't exactly be completely opposed to going to dinner with someone like Roman. He was attractive enough, and obviously seemed kind enough to help someone in need. It was just that, he was clearly a type of person that Virgil didn't usually interact with. No one he hung out with would ask someone on a date ten minutes after meeting them. Virgil especially wouldn't do that. 

And plus, he was a theatre kid. Anyone who had the personality to get up onstage in front of a hundred people had the kind of personality he associated himself with.

But, there was just something about him. Something about him that...almost made Virgil want to see him again. Maybe, if they did see each other...then...

Virgil shook the thought from his head. He'd just met the guy. Of course he wasn't going to go out with him.

***

Roman burst through his door, singing in his loudest voice. His hands were against his chest, clutching his shirt like he was trying to rip his own heart from his body. But only out of joy.

“My dear, please hear, he is the one!” He sang. “He is the one for me!” He tossed his script on to the couch and flopped dramatically on his recliner. It rocked back and forth unsteadily. “My heart, it fills, it sings with glee, he is the one for me!”

He draped an arm over his eyes, huffing out a sigh. “The grace, the poise, the boy, his eyes!” he continued. “He is the one for meeeee!”

Roman sang until he couldn't anymore, and he laid there, breathing heavily, as if he'd just run a thousand miles. If you'd been counting heart beats, then he might as well have.

That boy. He was magnificent. Roman knew the type quite well: a dark, edgy, robust exterior that covered up the soft, emotional parts within. There was no way he'd be able to intimidate Roman at this point, since he'd already seen the boy at his most terrified, vulnerable moment. Those giant, scared, lovely brown eyes. His maroon hair flying in the wind. His smile. Oh, that smile. Roman had seen a hint of it when he made some dumb joke on the way down the stairs. How he couldn't wait to see it again.

Virgil Knightly. What a beautiful, fitting, glorious name for a boy like that. It beat Roman Cortenay any day of the week. Once they were we'd, he'd take Virgil's name, of course. Mr. And Mr. Knightly, come right this way. Oh, Mr. Knightly, so good to see you. 

It had this royal ring to it. And just as well too; once they were together, they'd be Kings.

Roman sat up straight on the chair, idly rocking himself back and forth by pushing his foot against the ground. He was looking out the window, in the direction he knew that abandoned building was. He could see its roof peeking out from behind a bit of fog.

He must court that boy. He must. It was love at first sight. At least for Roman. Boys like Virgil didn't believe in those sorts of things, so he'd have to work slow. Talk to him, gain his trust, get Virgil to like Roman back. Then he'd swoop in for a kiss. Or dinner. Or whatever Roman could get, honestly. He wasn't a creep. 

No, Roman was a romantic. He stood up from his chair, and started to pace the room. “He'll be back on that rooftop. I know he will. He'll have to give me something more. I mean, I saved the guys life, of course he'd pay me back for it. Sure, he gave me his name, but I know people like him. People like him aren't satisfied with something like that when it comes to things like this. He'll be back. And I'll be waiting. With flowers. And chocolate!” Roman stopped. He took in a breath, tried to think rational thoughts. “No, I'll just bring myself. We must take it slow. I don't want to scare him off.”

If not romantically, then he wanted to at least be friends. Acquaintances, pals, buddies, partners, lovers, husbands, whatever title one wanted to slap onto it. 

Roman curled his hand into a fist, as if wrapping his fingers around the quest. “Either way,” he said. “He will be mine!”

***

“OOOOH MYYYY GOOOOOOOD!”

The sound of Patton's scream was muted until Virgil heard him turn the corner. Along with the rising voice, he could also hear the pounding of his footsteps against the floor. Both sounds were heading towards him as he messed with his phone on the couch.

He didn't really register it at first. Patton exclaimed a lot, after all. Maybe he'd just seen an especially cute dog on the internet. But when he turned his head and saw Patton's figure sprinting through the house, arms out, cardigan flapping in his wake, his eyes widened. 

With a yell, Virgil tried to scramble off the couch but he was a second too late. Patton had launched himself onto it, landing squarely on top of Virgil. Patton wrapped his arms around Virgil so tight that he thought he'd break in two. Virgil was pinned under him, and he tried to wriggle free. But like a snake, with every move he made, Patton just hugged tighter.

“Are you okay?!” Patton exclaimed. He pulled away, which allowed Virgil to breathe. And he started to pat various parts of Virgil with his hands, looking for bruises, cuts, injuries, something. “Are you hurt?!”

Virgil was trying to push Patton off of him. “I'm-- fine Patton!” Finally, he disentangled himself. “What are you yelling for?”

Patton sat up, balancing on his knees. “Logan told me what happened today! You could've died! Are you alright?”

Virgil fixed his hair, a stone sinking in his stomach. He specifically told Logan to _not_ tell Patton. He trying to prevent…well, exactly what just happened. 

“I'm okay,” Virgil said. “Honest. And so is Goblin, see?” He pointed over, and there Goblin laid, curled up in the corner of the love seat. As always, he left a nice trail of shed fur around him. Patton looked over. 

“Im glad he's okay, but I'm more worried about you, Virge,” said Patton. “That must've been scary.”

Though he sighed, he was inclined to agree. He nodded. “Yeah, I guess it was.” Understatement of the century. “But I'm fine. Someone else was up there, and he helped me.” Patton eased at this, and he ended up sitting cross legged next to Virgil, leaning his head on his shoulder. “I'm sorry I didn't tell you,” Virgil added, “I didn't want you to worry.”

“Who was it up there?” asked Patton. “Someone you know?”

Virgil shook his head. “No, I didn't know him. But he was nice.” Kinda nice looking too. But he didn't say that out loud. 

“Cute?” said Patton with a teasing smile.

“No!” Yes. Virgil bit the inside of his cheek.

“Maybe you should take him to dinner. As a thanks.”

Virgil scoffed. “Absolutely no. He already asked when I offered to repay him. I don't do dates.”

“Who said it'd be a date?”

Virgil stood abruptly. “I'm going to my room,” he said, turning down the hall as Patton snickered behind him.

As he walked, he couldn't help feeling a bit regretful. Frustration followed, because he kind of regretted not saying yes to dinner.


	3. Be More Chill, Virgil

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can you tell I'm trying to make each chapter title a musical reference?

It was two and a half weeks before Virgil worked up the nerve to go on the roof again to see Roman.

Due to Patton's endless teasing, and the strange pull he felt every time he biked past the building, Virgil decided that he had to go up there again. He wanted to see if Roman was up there, rehearsing lines, like he said he did. Or maybe he could validate his theory that Roman was a burglar who followed Virgil up there, and only let him be because he saw that someone was in danger. Part of him hoped that that was the case, so he wouldn't have to acknowledge the part of him that wanted to know if the offer for dinner was still on the table.

He tried a total of four times to go up on the roof. He was finally successful on the fourth time, because the previous three ended in messy disasters.

The first time, Virgil asked Logan to come with him. He felt that once he got there, he'd start to feel a little panicky. And he figured that Logan would be able to talk him down long enough to make it up to the roof.

He was partly right. Virgil did get panicky, but more than a little. And he didn't make it up to the roof. Not even close. As soon as he stepped through the door and heard his footstep echo against the concrete walls, he started to hyperventilate. As if just stepping on a stair step would mean him going back on that ledge, staring down at the street below. Logan did indeed talk him back into being calm; he helped Virgil do his counting, and brought him out of the building and into Logan's car. 

Though Virgil wanted to try again, Logan concluded that it would only cause more harm than good, and promptly drove the two home. As soon as Virgil walked into the house, he flopped on the couch and took a nap. Patton then cooked some pasta, and they called it a day.

The second time, Virgil took Patton with him. Perhaps he needed more emotional support rather than the help of straight logic. 

This did get him farther than last time. Virgil made it through the door, and up two floor's worth of stairs before he started needing some help. And Patton's version of help was a little better than Logan's when it came to trying to get to the roof, but hugs and encouraging words only went so far. By the fifth floor, Patton suggested that it was time to go home. By the seventh floor, he'd finally convinced Virgil that it wasn't worth it. And by the ninth, he'd actually gotten Virge to turn around and go.

Once home, he chowed down on some garlic bread Logan had left for him after ordering out, and then went to sleep for the rest of the day. This whole 'trying to repay his debt’ thing made him more tired than when he was in high school.

The third time, he went alone.

Even though he’d been strongly advised by Logan, Patton, and himself in the mirror to not attempt to go back up there, he couldn't help it. His anxiety was strong, but his impulsivity was stronger. So one day, Virgil devised a plan. 

He told Patton that the animal shelter across town was looking for puppy bathers, and he jumped in the car right away. After that, he told Logan that a small bookstore had opened, also conveniently across town. Logan was a little skeptical, but when Virgil said that they sold leather bound journals, Logan was out for the count. 

So with both his positive influences gone, Virgil jumped on his bike and headed out. The note on the fridge said: _Gone roofin’._

It was the perfect plan; really, it was. At least, that's what Virgil was thinking until he got there. 

The first few flights were fine. He was humming his favorite songs to himself to keep the image of the ledge out of his mind. But then he forgot why he was humming, and had to remind himself. And because he reminded himself that he was humming to forget the ledge, he then remembered the ledge, which made his humming null and void. 

Regardless, Virgil tried to trek on. He did his counting, remembered his training, talked himself down. He made it up all the way to the roof itself, actually. And he was quite proud of himself. 

Then he looked around for Roman, but Roman wasn't there, and in Virgil’s search, he accidentally looked out over the ledge to see the city, and this was when it all fell apart. He ended up immobile, stuck sitting curled up near the door. As he cursed himself, he called Patton. When he didn't answer, he called Logan, who sounded very disappointed but also very worried. He came right away.

“I thought leather bound journals _and_ a small book store sounded too good to be true,” Logan said as he drove. 

“Was Patton upset?” asked Virgil.

“He's still downtown. Turned out, the animal shelter actually _was_ looking for puppy bathers.”

“Huh.”

At least someone got _something_ out of today.

***

Roman was disappointed, to say the least.

He'd seen Mr. Virgil Knightly twice since the day he'd been a heroic hero that heroically saved him. But he’d interacted with said boy zero times.

The first time, he was peeking over the edge for an hour or two before he saw a car pull up. At first, he was confused, but when he saw Virgil get out and go towards the entrance, he bit his lip in glee. 

He fixed his hair, added just a tad of foundation, and waited patiently near the door, script open to a random page. He wanted to look as if he'd just been caught naturally, so he would act surprised and flattered (with a touch of confused) when Virgil walked through the door. “Oh, my goodness, you startled me,” he rehearsed what he'd say. “I have to say, I didn't think I'd see you back up here.”

But the secret was that Roman did expect to see him back up there. He giggled to himself.

He stayed there waiting for about ten minutes, and then felt a stone drop in his stomach when he heard a car driving away. Roman ran to the ledge to see that the same car that pulled up was now turning down the street, away from the building. Roman frowned. What happened? 

The second time, he only idly looked out over the ledge, still halfway hoping that Virgil would show up again. 

A different car pulled up this time, but it was the same purple haired boy who walked out of the passenger side. He glanced up to the roof, and Roman had to duck behind the ledge so as to not be seen. But he was still smiling as he frantically made sure he looked up to code.

Maybe last time he'd tripped on a stair and had to go home. Or maybe he wanted to go out and buy some flowers for Roman. Or maybe he went out to buy a RING!

Roman sat behind the ledge for a good half hour, fantasizing about all the ways their second meetup would go, until he realized that Virgil should've been to the top by now. He checked the stairwell. Nothing. He looked outside. Virgil was getting back into the car again. 

“Is it me?” he said to the air. Was he doing something wrong? Or perhaps Virgil kept psyching himself out. Either way, the prospect of meeting this boy again was starting to become less and less probable.

The next day, Roman had rehearsal at the theatre, so he couldn't be in his spot, which was halfway annoying. He had a feeling that Virgil might be there. 

**

The fourth time Virgil attempted to reach the top of the roof, he really was successful. Not in the way that he was successful the last time. No, this time, he made it up there--by himself, he might add--and Roman was actually there.

He'd spoken with Patton. He'd spoken with Logan. And he'd spoken to himself in the mirror. Everyone decided that he could get up there, and he could finally ask for that dinner. 

_Finally._

So he put on his best jacket, ran his hand through his hair, and got on his bike. 

“Don't think,” he told himself as the wind whipped through his hair. He was pedaling as fast as his feet could pedal. “Just go. Run. Climb for your LIFE!”

He may have been looking strange to onlookers and passers by but he didn't care. No, he was on a mission. He was going to get to the top of that roof, find that guy, allow himself to be asked to dinner, and _finally_ be done with this whole freaking thing! Anxiety be damned!

Virgil neared the building. He stopped in front of it. 

“I've got you now,” he said. He didn't know what that meant, but he was sticking by it. Virgil jumped off his bike, and sprinted up the stairs. 

This was about to be over for good.

**Author's Note:**

> Leave a comment?


End file.
